Anywhere
by Denise Nicole
Summary: A post AJBAC story that takes Max and Logan in a new direction.
1. Part 1

_Anywhere_

_By: Denise N. Rodier_

_A/N: Time to give credit where credit is rightfully due. Thanks to Alaidh for the awesome beta, as always. Additional thanks to Kyre and Kasman for taking a peek at some of the "early" bits of this._

_Although this is not a song-fic, this story is inspired by the song "Anywhere" by Evanescence. This is a post-AJBAC story that takes a turn, but I guess all post-AJBAC stories do. M/L, as always._

~~~~~~~

He never could quite figure out how he had gotten back to his apartment. But in the end, to him, it didn't really matter. He didn't want to be there. He didn't want to be anywhere…without her. All he wanted was to be back in that one moment, where she was looking at him, taking a last breath. Where she was still alive. Every day, he watched the sun come up, and the sun go down, and replayed that single moment over and over in his mind. And lived there with her.

~~~~~~~

The pain in her chest was horrific. She could hardly breathe through it. Renfro had taken away her pain medication – punishment for biting one of the med techs assigned to her. She was healing relatively fast, but it was still a heart transplant. Not quite the same thing as a paper cut. To take her mind off the pain, she focused on her last moment with him. That one moment where he was holding her, and there was nothing else in the world but him and her. And she replayed that single moment over and over in her mind. And lived there with him.

~~~~~~~

Enough time went by that he finally stood up and left the couch. Actually, Bling found him, and made him stand, telling him sitting in one place for so long wasn't good for his circulation. Exoskeleton or not, his spinal cord was still severed, as Bling reminded him quite often in a variety of phrases, and he needed to take care of himself.

Logan knew that more was severed than just his spinal cord.

He felt disconnected from the world…from his entire life, actually. Ever since Max was…taken from him, he had felt suspended in time. He couldn't go back, and was never able to move forward. Not that he really wanted to, though. He wouldn't call himself content to be in the dark fog that he was in, but he wasn't entirely unhappy to be miserable either. As long as he could keep denying to himself that she was…gone, he could keep living. If he ever let her go…he would be gone, too.

~~~~~~~

Enough time went by that her bonds were finally released and she was allowed to get up from her bed. Okay, she was allowed to be escorted by seven armed guards to a new brick cell with a 24-hour watch to continue recuperating. Being back at Manticore made Max feel suspended in time. The creepy place kept her locked in her past, not allowing her to move forward to the future, or back to how things had been. And she so desperately wanted to. But as long as she could keep denying that she was, in fact, where she was, she could keep living. If she ever let Logan go, if she ever admitted she was Manticore's…she _would_ be dead.

~~~~~~~

He had discovered his purpose, the reason he was still alive. Max was his purpose. All he could think these days was of her fear of Manticore, and knew that even if she was…gone…right now, that was one thing he could finish for her. 

He could destroy Manticore.

He channeled all of his fear, his hate, his grief into taking down that which had haunted her to her end. And besides, he knew that it would be a wonderful gift for when she returned. She _would_ return. Even though she had…she was still alive. Because his heart was still beating, he knew she was alive.

~~~~~~~

Her heart was still beating, but she wasn't sure if she was alive. Not anymore. If you are fighting just to survive, how could you have any time left to be alive?

Max was _so_ tempted to give in to Renfro, to use that designation from her old life, if only to get out of that damned box. She tried to channel all of her hate, her fear, her pain into just getting through the next minute…and the next…and the next.

Except she was hungry, and weak, and tired. She soon forgot to count the minutes.

She soon forgot what her purpose even was.

~~~~~~~

Bling and Original Cindy took turns coming by to drag him out of his apartment. The first day, they did it together, and Logan stood blinking in the sunlight, unsure of the last time he had stood outside. It felt so strange, so foreign, that it took him a few seconds to adjust to the fact that the world was still there. They came back, together for a while, and then they began coming separately. One day he finally told Original Cindy what he was planning.

She grew silent for a long moment before saying, "You think she's still alive?"

Logan glanced at the crowds bustling around them. He never could figure out where the people of Seattle were going; there was no place else_ to_ go. He turned his attention away from them, and to the woman sitting next to him. The fact that she asked a question finally registered with his brain, and he pondered it for a long minute. "Yes," he said simply.

Original Cindy was, in turn, silent before asking, "Why?"

Light eyes met dark as he replied, "Because I still am."

~~~~~~~

She was weak when they pulled her out of the box, but she was alive…barely. Her legs were too rubbery and cramped to support even her slight weight as the guards dragged her towards the infirmary. She tried to blink away the light the med tech shone in her eyes, but he roughly kept her eyelids open while he did his examination. "State your designation," he commanded her.

Her brain felt foggy as she struggled to hold onto consciousness. She wasn't entirely certain what he was asking her…or what the answer was, either.

He heaved the sigh of the long-suffering. "Look, whether you like it or not, you're here. And they'll kill you." He poked at one of the ribs that were now sticking out sharply against her skin. "They're pretty close now." He leaned close to her ear and whispered to her. "It doesn't hurt to play along. Regroup and redeploy, eh?"

A door opened and Renfro swiftly walked in. She glanced at the med tech and asked, "Status?"

He looked down at his patient and shrugged. "I've only begun an initial examination, but I can tell you for sure she's malnourished and dehydrated. This has possibly also slowed her healing process…"

Renfro raised a hand to stop his report. She moved until her eyes were directly in the X5's field of vision. "State your designation," she whispered coldly.

Her dry lips cracked as she automatically responded in a weak breath, "4…" She took a shaky breath and tried again, "4…"

Renfro stood and looked at the tech. "Give her some water and call the guards. Have them take her back to her cell." Renfro began to walk out of the room, and then, almost as an afterthought, called over her shoulder, "I don't think that hair is regulation. Shave it."

As the guards dragged her away, her borrowed heart felt heavy, as though she had betrayed someone. She tried to remember who…

~~~~~~~

Logan was getting worried. Every day that passed, he felt like she was slipping away from him. He worked harder, longer, faster, but seemed to be making no more progress than he had on the first day he had decided to take down Manticore. His informants seemed to be shying away from him; the usual steady stream of phone calls from contacts seemed to be gradually trickling down to non-existence. Not that he really cared. He was a man on a mission.

But even he was beginning to wonder if he was just tilting at windmills. It was so strange. He knew Manticore existed, had proof of it at one time even, but now it seemed as though it had almost up and disappeared. Like it had…moved.

He spun his wheels quickly as he raced back to his computer. A few quick keystrokes and searches told him what he had already known. Quite a few military convoys had left Wyoming in the past week or so. There was no indication where they had gone. He began the painstaking process of trying to trace their path.

~~~~~~~

She was in one of the last few convoys out of Wyoming, and they kept her sedated for the duration of the trip. Not that she really could have done much more than move anyway, but they felt they needed to take precautions. She was manhandled roughly into the small transport truck, alone, since they didn't trust her to be around anyone, yet.

She vaguely wondered what she had done to make them so mad at her, but her drugged brain had difficulty holding onto more than the most basic thoughts. 

_I shouldn't be here. I should be somewhere else. Where should I be?_

She tried to shake the fog away from her brain, but only succeeded in moving her chin about two millimeters, enough to attract unneeded attention from one of the guards.

Her brain barely processed the fact that he kicked her sharply in the ribs and told her to be still. She didn't really even feel the second kick he gave her, both for good measure and out of his own frustration with his life.

She let the fog envelop her.

~~~~~~~

Original Cindy brought some coffee and a sandwich with her on one of the days she came by to check on him. As much as she wanted Logan to find Max, she was beginning to wonder if he wasn't obsessing over a dream. Chasing after something…someone…he could never have.

But even if he was obsessing…someone had to make sure he ate, since he surely wasn't.

She opened the front door to his apartment with the key he had given her one day…

_What's this?_

_What's it look like? It's a key._

_I got that. What's it for?_

_If you insist on coming by to bother me, at least you won't have to knock._

_The knocking bothering you?_

_Exactly._

…and walked inside, shaking her head at the memory of that exchange. She still wasn't sure that he made sense with all of the sense he was trying to make. She set the coffee and sandwich on one of the kitchen counters, and then began to walk through the apartment. "Logan?" she called, not really expecting an answer. She wasn't disappointed. But what she didn't hear were the little sounds that always seemed to be present in his apartment: the clack of the keyboard keys, the whir of the exoskeleton, or the gentle sound of his wheels on the wood floor as he swiveled in frustration – Logan's equivalent of pacing. She quietly walked into his "office" area, and stopped, smiling.

He was half-sprawled across his keyboard, fast asleep. She saw a few notes jotted on the screen, followed by a long string of random characters, probably "typed" there by either his chin or nose as he had laid his head down. Original Cindy sighed and gently tugged the keyboard out from under his face. Logan didn't even notice. "You'll never forgive yourself if you lose all your hard work to drool, boo. Better to just let the sandman keep doin' his work for now. You can get back to yours later."

She saved his file, just in case, since she knew just enough about computers to know they liked to eat things when nobody was watching, and shut down the system. She gently ran her fingers through his hair, and sighed. "This is not the do for you, boo. Max would have a fit if she saw you like this."

As she turned out the lights, and quietly opened the door to leave, her breath caught in her chest as she realized that she needed to begin to leave the dream, too.

~~~~~~~

_He looked around him, as he entered this new place. He had never seen it before, and hoped to never see it again. The dingy color alone of the place – everything seemed to be overcast with grey – made him want to turn and try to leave. But he was looking for something…someone._

_"Where are you?" he asked to the room, even though he wasn't entirely sure who he was looking for._

_"I'm right here. Please. Why aren't you looking?"_

_He turned, hearing her voice. "I am looking. Where are you?"_

_"I'm right here," she repeated. "Don't you know me?"_

_He stilled, listening to the hollow air of the place moving around him in gusts that sounded almost like low moans. He closed his eyes briefly, and then opened them, letting his vision clear._

_She was almost at his feet, holding her knees as she huddled in a small ball, trying to make herself invisible. Pain radiated from her in waves, so much so that he almost wanted to move on and pretend that he didn't even know her. But something about her wouldn't let him…even though he still wasn't sure who she was. She looked up at him with dark eyes. "Help me," she pleaded._

_His brow furrowed. "How?"_

_"Why won't you help me?" she asked, pain and fear clogging her voice. She looked out of the corner of her eye, and he followed her gaze. There was a creature standing less than a foot away from them. It had the head of a man, the body of a lion, and a spiked tail. It didn't seem to be doing anything other than watching them, waiting for his move._

_He turned back to her. "How do I help you?" he asked._

_"Who am I?"_

_He blinked. "What?"_

_"Who am I?" she asked again, beginning to cry. "Who am I? Tell me! Tell me who I am!" she begged._

_"I know who you are," was all he could say._

_"Tell me! Tell me!" she wailed, over and over. She began to sob and clutched her thin legs closer to her chest._

_Casting a cautious eye to the creature, which was now grinning at this woman's tears, he walked over and knelt in front of her. He held out a hand to her. "Take my hand."_

_She drew in a shaky breath and looked up at him with a tear-stained face. "You know who I am?"_

_"You're mine," he answered._

_She put her fingers into his own. "You're mine," she echoed._

_Three loud bangs sounded throughout the place._

~~~~~~~

Logan jerked awake. He had dreamed of Max many times before, every night, actually, but this was new. This Max seemed…unknown. Too thin, too pale, too weak, too…something. He didn't know what. But something had changed.

~~~~~~~

The dream was strange. A man…a creature…a voice…the drugs maybe? She wasn't entirely sure why she knew she was drugged. She felt so weak…

A voice. There was a new voice there, right now. She felt herself being lifted.

"On your feet, soldier!"

She tried to comply, was able to focus enough to lift a knee, but not enough to help her feet find the floor.

An exasperated sigh reached her ears, and she opened her eyes. In the dark haze of the light, she saw that the soldiers in the truck with her had smeared red on their foreheads. She vaguely wondered why they did that. The red was not part of what they usually wore. They would be reprimanded for being out of uniform. Suddenly, blue moved into her field of vision. The eyes that the blue belonged to narrowed as a voice from far away said, "This is Colonel Lydecker giving you an order, soldier. Are you going to disobey?"

~~~~~~~~

_End of Part 1_

_Part 2 - Coming Friday December 12_


	2. Part 2

Donald Lydecker was concerned by Max's mental state. Saying that she was conscious was an exaggerated hope at best. Saying she was nearly in a coma with waking states of unconsciousness was probably closer to the truth. Knowing Manticore as well as he did, and Max's…"friendly" nature, too, they had probably pumped her full of sedatives before daring to transport her. 

He glanced over at her. He had placed her in the passenger seat of the transport truck, so he could keep an eye on her while he was driving. Apparently she was keeping an eye on him, too. She was "staring" at him, which, frankly, unnerved him. He was well aware by the blank, fixed look to her eyes that she probably didn't see him at all. He wondered if it was the particular drug combination that someone at Manticore had used to sedate her, or whether it was also, in part, due to her weakened state.

Max was entirely too thin, and her skin had the dull appearance of severe dehydration. Lydecker had seen her injuries in the field, back during the mission to take down Manticore's DNA lab, and knew that Manticore must have come up with a new heart for her, somehow. Even with her X5 regenerative capabilities, she would still be recovering from that, and any other injuries she had sustained over the past month or so.

All in all, not a good mix.

Ignoring the dull stare, he turned his attention back to the road, ignoring the stench of the bodies in the back of the truck. There had been no time to dump the corpses of the soldiers. It was imperative that they – well, he – kept his location steady with the path of the other convoy trucks, so as to not arouse the suspicion of whoever at Manticore was surely keeping track of this particular truck – Renfro, most likely. _Bitch_, he cursed briefly, allowing himself to enjoy that touch of hate for the woman who was slaughtering his children. At least one of them would be safe now.

_The hunter protecting the hunted._ Laughing at the irony in that, and feeling relief that Max's eyes had closed for the moment, he fished out his cell phone from inside his jacket pocket, praying that it was still untraceable.

~~~~~~~

Logan pounded on his keyboard in frustration. The new location of Manticore was remaining elusive. He had some good leads, including possible financial records at a Veterans Administration office, but so far nothing had panned out. He had debated long and hard about bringing in some outside assistance. He had friends among the S1W who would be more than willing to infiltrate the VA, but Logan finally decided it wasn't worth the risk to bring "outsiders" into his mission.

That didn't exclude people who were already in the mission, however.

He had placed a phone call to Lydecker yesterday. His stomach had rolled at the thought of bringing Max's biggest enemy into the mix, but he felt that doing so was his best bet. Even though the Colonel was AWOL from Manticore, Logan had no doubt he still had his sources. So now Logan was playing the waiting game, seeing if he could at least get the man to return his phone call.

Bling had stopped by earlier, but didn't stay long when he saw that Logan was…busy. Logan hadn't immediately divulged his mission to his former therapist; Original Cindy had been the one to tell him about it within a few hours of her and Logan's "chat." Bling had first grumbled about Logan being obsessed, but then conceded the fact that the man finally seemed energized about _something_ for a change. He also took it upon himself to do some of the legwork that Logan couldn't, or refused, to do. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to help for much longer. He had accepted a position in Albuquerque that paid more than he could earn in Seattle. It would be foolish for him not to go, although he would still worry about his friend.

Logan was not completely oblivious to the fact that Bling would soon be gone from his life, but he didn't choose to think about it much, either. When the day came, he would face it. Until then, he had other things on his mind.

Logan pushed thoughts of Bling aside and returned his focus to the task at hand. After a few more forceful taps, he was able to coerce his computer to perform some of the tasks he was attempting. Luckily, they were some of the most important functions. He had successfully cracked the uplink sequences to one of the still functional television satellites that broadcast to the Seattle area. One of his ground wire cable hacks wouldn't be enough for what he needed. He wanted as many people to get the strongest signal possible. He uploaded a test message, and sat back. The connection failed within two minutes.

He sighed. He had been worried about that. It would most likely take frequent uploading and re-uploading to get the intended message out in the first place, and then much more additional hack-work to get the message to transmit from the satellite to the networks. But at least he had a start. Now, if he could just get that location…

The shrill ring of the telephone broke his concentration. Logan glared at it for a few seconds before deciding to give in and answer. "_What?_" he answered gruffly. The voice that replied nearly caused him to drop the phone.

"So you want to know about Manticore?"

Logan blinked, trying to regain his senses. "Lydecker?" he managed to ask.

The irritated voice on the other end provided confirmation. "We don't have time for the pleasantries, son. They've probably already got a lock on my position as it is."

"Then, yes, of course." Logan couldn't believe his ears. He was being handed his dream on a silver platter. A small voice told him that he shouldn't trust this good-will gift, but he decided it was better not to look gift horses in the mouth…even gift horses from Trojans.

"Manticore has decided to consolidate at a facility about an hour southwest of Seattle," Lydecker informed him.

Logan frantically scribbled the information down on a scrap of paper, even though he knew it was burning itself into his brain with every word. That close. To be _that close_…close enough to reach out and touch. He owed Lydecker everything now. "Th—"

"She's not there," Lydecker interrupted.

Logan's heart stopped. _All of this time…to come so close…only to find out she's…she's…_

"We're on our way into Seattle. Can you get us passed through the sector checkpoints?" Lydecker continued urgently.

_We? Oh, God…_ He didn't dare hope. "I think so. Where are you coming in?"

"10."

"Lydecker…can I…?"

Lydecker cut him off. "Wait for my call when we're in." 

Logan heard a click, and then the line went dead. He took a couple of shallow breaths, trying to get his heart back to its normal rhythm. "We" could realistically be anyone. Zack was missing as well, after all. But even though Logan had only had limited experience with Lydecker, he knew the man well enough to know that the Colonel wouldn't be contacting him with news about Zack.

He took another deep breath to steady himself, and pushed off hard on his wheels in the direction of the exoskeleton. He needed to be prepared for whatever would come next.

~~~~~~~

She was drifting somewhere in the fog of the present. The feeling was strange, like she was somehow bound by her own mind. She had moments where she thought she could grasp onto some image swiftly passing through her mind, but even those fleeting scraps were soon gone, and she was floating again.

There had been a voice for a while, familiar in a way, but frightening in the coldness that went with it. She finally decided that she couldn't hear it anymore, and the voice left. She wished she could hear the other voice again…

_What other voice?_ the creature sitting next to her asked.

She closed her eyes to look at it. For some reason, the creature didn't frighten her, although she felt like it should. It was strange to see a man's head on a lion's body. It swung its spiked tail lazily back and forth._ That other one that was here before_, she told it, frowning as she tried to remember when exactly before was. _He knew who I was._

The creature shrugged. _Does it really matter who you were before? Shouldn't it matter who you are now?_

She frowned. _I'm 4…_

The creature growled and walked over to sit on her shoulder. _That's what They said you are. Who do you say you are?_

_I don't know. Maybe that other voice could help me…_

~~~~~~~

Lydecker breathed a little more easily now that they were through the sector checkpoint – and in a different vehicle, one without corpses. Logan had been true to his word, and managed to get them through the checkpoints without question. Lydecker drove the sedan they were now in slowly up to a checkpoint, and flashed his ID up to the window, risking the chance that one of the sector police at the border might be affiliated with his former employers. He breathed a sigh of relief as an Asian man who wasn't wearing a uniform noted him holding the ID, and slowly walked up to the car. Lydecker rolled down his window.

"Good afternoon, sir," the man said after a quick glance at the ID. "I've been waiting for you. I'm sure you'll be glad to get back into uniform after such a long plainclothes mission."

Lydecker smiled. It was a weak story…but it would do. "Of course. I'll be much more comfortable back behind a desk. But you know how the superiors are – sending the big boys out when a couple of non-coms would be much better." The two men knowingly looked at each other. "Your name, officer?"

"Detective Matt Sung, sir," Matt greeted. "I'm sorry, sir, but I have a few more questions before I can pass you through."

"Go ahead, Detective."

"Are you transporting any hazardous materials back with you?"

"Just my sidearm."

Sung looked in the car, and Lydecker saw his gaze flicker slightly as he glanced from the front to the back. "I don't see any additional passengers. Are you traveling alone?"

Cale's man or not, Lydecker preferred to keep some things to himself. "Yes," he said shortly.

Sung's eyebrows rose a bit as he asked, "And where will you be staying while you're in town, sir?"

Lydecker shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant, but in reality impatient to keep moving. "Currently classified, even to myself. I hope to be contacting my direct…superior…soon for debriefing."

Sung nodded, understanding the translation: _no clue._ He turned and waved to one of the other officers, and the barrier at the gate lifted. "Welcome to Seattle."

Lydecker slowly pulled away from the gate, resisting the urge to floor the gas. He had been afraid that one of the sector cops would have wanted to search the trunk. He laughed as he wondered what they would have thought when they saw the "body" he had stashed in there.

_Welcome to Seattle_, the Detective had said. But now that they were in Seattle, he wasn't quite sure what to do. Max needed medical attention, but taking her to a hospital was too risky. Since she was stable, in an unstable sense, he decided it would be best to leave her where she was for the few hours it would take until he found a place to set up base.

~~~~~~~

"Look, Logan, I'm telling you, she wasn't in there."

"She had to be!" Logan nearly yelled in disbelief.

"Logan," Matt said, hoping the sternness of his voice would get through to the man. "Lydecker was in a large vehicle, easy to see into. The passenger seat and the back seats were clear. He told me there wasn't anybody else with him."

Logan was silent, not sure what to think. On one hand, he was inclined to trust Lydecker at face value. On the other hand…well, he wasn't inclined to trust him either. "Did he say anything else?"

Matt sighed, knowing Logan hadn't really wanted to hear what he had to say. He didn't know why Logan hadn't thought that this man would have Max with him anyway. "Basically, that he didn't know where he was going yet. I'd say that he's going to call you soon."

"Thanks for your help, Matt," Logan said half-heartedly. "It was worth a shot." He hung up, wondering what he was going to do now.

~~~~~~~

They put her back in the box!

Max looked around frantically, trying to figure out why she was in the box again. Her stolen heart burned in her chest as it beat faster and faster. But she could move. Her weak legs were now trying to take her body somewhere. There was a bright flash of sunlight, a noise, and darkness again. All became quiet, and she let the sound of the water lull her to sleep.

~~~~~~~

Logan was startled from sleep by the ring of his telephone. He looked around in a moment of confusion, not realizing he had drifted off. He stood up from the couch and took a few unsteady steps towards the cordless telephone. Grabbing it, he brought the receiver to his ear, wincing as he half hit his head with it. "What?" he asked.

Silence.

Logan blinked, rubbing the grit out of his eyes. "Hello?" There was some sort of dawning realization as his brain caught up to the present. "Lydecker?"

Silence.

Logan quickly carried the receiver over to his computer, glad to see it was still on. He briefly looked at the computer clock, and saw that it was only about 5:30 in the evening. He carefully listened through the phone. It was what he wasn't hearing that was concerning him the most. Even though there was no response, the line hadn't closed. He quickly set up a number trace program. Like Lydecker had said, it was a secured line, but Logan was able to get through fairly easily and confirm his suspicions. "Must be in trouble to be calling me," Logan murmured as he began trying to trace a location to the signal. "Sure as hell didn't bump speed dial to get me."

Within fifteen minutes, he had managed to narrow the signal down to some abandoned warehouses near some of the older docks in Seattle. He ran to the elevator and hit the button for the garage. When it opened on level P1, he walked as quickly as he could out to his Aztek, glancing in the rear to make sure his spare chair was in the back – _just in case_ – and spun his tires as he sped out of the garage.

Down at the docks, the hairs on his neck began to stand on end at the eerie silence of the place. He slowly drove around a few of the warehouses, trying to spot Lydecker, whatever he was driving, or any sign of anything, all the while attempting to look casual to anybody who might have been watching. After a few minutes, he finally saw a sedan seemingly abandoned near the far corner of one of the buildings.

Logan parked the Aztek at a distance, not entirely sure what the situation was. He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out the 9mm he had stashed there. He checked to make sure it was loaded, and stepped out of the car. He approached the scene slowly, looking at every angle he possibly could, unable to see anybody from a distance. He called out, "Colonel!" with no response. As he got closer, he saw something near the front of the sedan.

An arm.

He rushed over and around the front of the sedan, and stopped short. Lydecker was lying on the ground, one hand above his head, reaching for a cell phone that was mere centimeters away from his outstretched fingers. The other clutched his stomach. Logan could see that blood had poured out from several large bullet wounds and was now coagulated in large pools on the ground. There was a rather stunned look on Lydecker's face, as though whoever had shot him had surprised him.

_Stupid, Cale_, Logan thought to himself as he bent down to pick up the cell phone. _Like getting shot wouldn't normally be a surprise_. He saw his home phone number on the display, and turned it off. He looked at Lydecker's body one more time, and then slowly sank down towards the ground, putting his head on his knees. Hot tears burned his eyes as the realization that this was the end hit him. Lydecker had been his last real chance at finding Max, or finding out what had happened to her. Now the dream was truly shattered.

_Help me._

Max's voice from his dreams echoed through his mind. It seared his heart, remembering how she had begged him to help her.

"Help me."

Logan's head snapped up at the weak call. He scrambled to his feet as fast as the exoskeleton would let him, shoving the cell phone in his pocket. For one of the longest minutes in his life, Logan listened to the sounds of small waves slapping against the docks. Desperately afraid that it had been his imagination, he called as loudly as he could manage, "Where are you?"

There was more silence, and then he heard very faintly, "I'm right here. Please. Why aren't you looking?"

"Oh, God," he gasped, pressing his face against the driver's side door of the sedan. He didn't see her. Moving to the rear seat window, he called again as he looked, "Max!"

"I'm right here."

Logan slowly turned his head and froze, his blood running cold. He slowly walked to the trunk. He tapped on the top. "Max?"

A pause…and there was a tapping from within. "Help me," was the faint reply.

Logan raced back to the Aztek, cursing his caution for parking so far away. The thought of trying to shoot out the lock had briefly crossed his mind, but luckily some piece of sense told him that he might end up shooting Max in the process. He quickly opened the rear hatch, pushing his spare wheelchair out of the way as he rummaged through all the assorted crap he had stored under a rug until he found his tire iron, and then raced back to the sedan.

"Max! Max, I'm here! I'm here, Max, don't give up on me," he urged as he tried to get the slim edge of the tire iron hooked under the edge of the trunk. He strained, trying to wedge it open. Finally, he managed to hook it right, and he stepped back as the trunk lid swung open. He looked inside…tears welled up in his eyes at the sight.

She was there. She was really there. But she was as pale and still as a corpse. A sob caught in Logan's throat as he reached down to touch her, to caress her head. He gently ran his fingers over the short stubble, which had been long, thick locks the last time he had seen her. He felt sorrow at the thought that Manticore had stolen so much from her – even this simple thing. He brought his fingers down to touch her lips, which were dry and cracked.

Her eyes flew open.

Logan jerked his hand back as though he were burned. She was…he bent down to look in her eyes. They were empty…no trace of a once vibrant woman. "Max?" he whispered.

"I'm right here," she murmured, almost reflexively. "Don't you know me?"

The words from his dream…

His mind raced as he tried to decide what to do. He couldn't tell how badly she was injured. He didn't see any blood seeping through the grey fatigues she wore, but obviously, something was wrong. If he moved her, he could do more damage. But what could he do? Call the paramedics? He knew that would be as bad a move as any. He knew he had to make a decision quickly. "Max," he said loudly, not really expecting a reaction, "I'm gonna get you out of here. Just hold on."

Logan said a quick prayer, slid his hands under her, and gently lifted her out of the trunk. He felt like he was lifting a pillow or something; she was extraordinarily lightweight, and there was a boneless, limp feel to her body. As he moved away from the car, he caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye, but decided to get Max in the Aztek first. He cringed as he took a few squeaking steps. He hoped that wasn't a sign the exoskeleton was about to give out. There couldn't be worse timing.

Max stared vacantly at Logan as he shifted her weight to open the passenger door, and then settled her into the seat. As he pulled the seatbelt across her stomach, he accidentally bumped her with his hand. She groaned softly, and he looked up at her face to see her wincing. His brows knit as he wondered what had caused her reaction. "I'm sorry," he apologized, not knowing whether she even understood him.

"S'okay," Max gasped. She closed her eyes and murmured, "I kicked a foot."

Logan was baffled at Max's sudden responsiveness. Her choice of wording seemed awfully strange, though. He looked at where he had bumped her, and gently tugged her shirt out from where it was tucked in her pants. He lifted her shirt and sighed at the gigantic purple and blue marks spread across her ribs. He realized that Max must have really meant that she was kicked by a foot, but somehow the words had gotten garbled in her brain. Brain damage? He shook his head, and decided it was time to get out of there. He shut the door and took two steps towards the driver's side before remembering the trunk.

_I should be getting Max out of here…_he was telling himself even as he kept walking back to the car. He looked inside the trunk…and saw a gun. He felt all the blood rush out of his head as he reached in to pull it out. He looked back to the Aztek and to Max. His brain was reeling with the implications of the gun. He briefly looked inside the car, but didn't see anything else out of place. He took a deep breath, and walked back to where Max was waiting. As he turned the key in the ignition, he looked at Max one more time before pulling away.

Sightless eyes stared back at him.

~~~~~~~

Dr. Beverly Shankar was packing up to leave for the evening when her phone rang. She briefly debated just letting it ring, but noticed that the caller ID was a familiar number. "Hello?"

The voice on the end sounded relieved. "Thank God you haven't left yet. I'll be at the morgue in three minutes. Can you stay and help me?"

Dr. Shankar's brow furrowed at the urgency in his voice. "Sure, Logan. What do you need help with?"

"I have a body for you."

"A body? Logan, what…?" she asked, but he had already hung up the phone.

A few minutes later, she found out. She held open the bay door as Logan gently carried Max inside. She was stunned enough at the fact that he was up and walking, but Max soon distracted her from that musing. "Logan, what the hell is going on?" she asked, feeling for Max's pulse. It was much too slow, but it was there.

"She's hurt," he responded. "I need you to help her."

Dr. Shankar just shook her head as she held open one of the inner doors, grateful that most of the employees had cut loose for the night, not wanting to stay a minute past shift. She directed him into the crypt, even as she was telling him, "Logan, if you haven't noticed, this is the morgue. She should be in a hospital."

"You do pro bono work at the Helman Clinic," Logan pointed out as he settled Max on a free gurney. "And she can't be in a hospital."

"Logan…" she began, but stopped at the anguished look on his face.

Logan leaned over Max, and gently stroked her face. "She's an important informant of Eyes Only."

_Yeah, right,_ Beverly thought. _She's important to you._ "What can you tell me?" she asked him as she moved to one of the cabinets, looking to see what she had that could be used on living bodies.

Logan shook his head. "Not much. She's been…missing for two months. I found her in the trunk of a car about 20 minutes ago."

Dr. Shankar turned to look at him. "A trunk? How did you find her?"

"Not quite sure. The man she was with was dead." Logan hesitated and decided that was enough.

Dr. Shankar moved back over to Max with a tray of assorted instruments. She held up a light to Max's eyes. She frowned when Max's pupils seemed not to react at first, and then _dilated_. "Max, can you follow the light?" she asked, not expecting a response.

"No," Max said softly.

The doctor jerked away from Max and looked at Logan in astonishment. Logan shook his head and shrugged. "She did that to me a couple of times on the way here. I'm really not sure she's totally aware of what you ask her, but her answers are too…_correct_ to be random.

"I don't see any head wounds," Beverly said, running her fingers over the stubble of Max's hair, "but it could be brain damage from some old wounds, or oxygen deprivation, or it could be something else entirely. I'd need to do an MRI to be certain, but I can't do that here." She picked up one of Max's hands and felt the papery skin. "She's severely dehydrated, so it could be a residual of that."

She looked up at Logan. "I need you to go to the clinic and pick up a few things for me. I'll call ahead, so all you'll need to do is go to the front desk and they'll have the stuff ready."

"Do you do that often?"

She nodded, understanding his concern. "Not unusual for them to get calls from me for the occasional supplies. I reciprocate from here when I can. While you're gone, I'm going to see if I can scrounge up Gib, one of the lab techs here, and see if we can run a few fast blood tests. I trust him, Logan," she added, forestalling that objection. She put her hand on his arm. "She'll be okay, Logan. I promise."

He took a deep breath, nodded, and then walked out the door.

As she watched him go, she realized she hadn't asked him about his legs. She turned back to Max. "Don't suppose you can tell me about that, could you?"

"Nope," Max said.

Beverly looked at her for a few seconds, trying to think about what exactly could cause that reaction, and then turned to the wall phone. She first dialed an intercom number. She was answered by a loud blast of music. "Gib, you still here?"

"Shanks!" was the cheerful call over the heavy beat. "'Course I am. I live here! What are you still doing here?"

"Same, Gib. Listen, can you come down to the crypt? I need some help with some stat lab tests."

"Rightyo, Shanks," he said, not even questioning for who or why. "On my way."

"Thanks." She hung up the line, and then picked it up once more and dialed a familiar number.

"Helman Clinic. Margie speaking."

"Margie? It's Bev Shankar. I need a favor…"

About an hour later, Max was asleep on the gurney and Beverly was reading a few papers when Logan walked back in with a bag. She looked up from the papers and smiled. "I take it they didn't hassle you?"

Logan shook his head as he sat the bag on a nearby counter. "No, they were pretty nice. How's she doing?" He walked over to Max's side, again struck by the extreme difference from two months ago to now.

Dr. Shankar sighed. "She's stable," she began. "I've found evidence of some trauma." She hesitated a moment. "Logan, did you know Max had a heart transplant?"

He closed his eyes and took a breath. "I'd suspected. The last time I saw her, she'd been shot. She was…she was…dead."

Dr. Shankar walked over and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Logan."

He shrugged her off. "It's okay. She's back. So, what's wrong with her now?"

The doctor walked over to the bag, and pulled out a saline bag. She touched Max's arm gently to locate a vein, and quickly swabbed it before inserting the needle. "Her injuries are actually fairly minor," she began.

"Minor?!" Logan waved a hand over Max's prone figure. "This is_ minor_?"

Dr. Shankar felt like sending him out on another run. This was the reason she didn't want him around during her initial examination. "Logan," she said sternly as she rooted through the bag for a blood pressure gauge. She expertly began to take Max's blood pressure. "Compared to a heart transplant, it is minor. She's very dehydrated, but that can be easily fixed. The other problems…she has a few broken ribs, minor bruising and lacerations in other areas of her body. That's pretty much it."

"So why is she…?"

Beverly held out the papers to him, hoping he would focus on those for a second and not on his fear and concern. "We found the presence of three different sedatives in her system, along with a hallucinogen, and a few other more questionable substances. The sedatives are causing the extreme lethargy you have seen, and possibly some of the confusion, although I think the hallucinogen may be mostly responsible for that. The combination of the above also seems to make her somewhat susceptible to suggestion. Which could explain some of the times she's actually 'responded' to our questions."

"Manticore was probably beginning to reprogram her," he murmured as he tried to read the gibberish on the printouts. "Can you give her anything to help her?"

She shook her head. "It'll be better for her if she comes out of it on her own. It'll probably be slow, and she may be a little confused for a while, but she _will _come out of it." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "Logan, this is just the physical. I have no idea what she's facing mentally."

"She's facing a nightmare," he whispered. He looked at Beverly, and she could see the indecision in his eyes.

"I'm not going to ask," she told him. "Whatever happened, it's not for me to know."

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them, Beverly could see the sheer gratitude in his look. "I can't tell you what this means to me."

_Not to Eyes Only…to him._ "Not often I get to see someone half dead leave the morgue half alive," she said in a blasé tone.

Logan gently began caressing Max's face again, running his hand up her cheek, to the remnants of her hair, and then back down. "Can she be moved?" he asked.

The doctor shrugged. "Normally, I would say that I prefer she not be moved until she's more conscious, but I don't know how long that will take. And she can't stay here."

"I'll take that as a yes," Logan decided. "Let me know the earliest we can leave."

"The drip is nearly finished. As soon as that's done—"

The shrill ring of a cell phone cut through the air. Logan reached into his pocket and pulled it out. "Bling," he said. He vacillated for a second before handing it to Beverly. "Don't answer it. After we leave, take it to the Duwamish and throw it in."

"What? Logan…"

"It's safer for him and for us."

She understood. They were going to run. "Where will you go?" she asked.

"I don't know," he admitted. "Somewhere. Anywhere. As far as we can go away from here."

"How will you get past the sector police?"

"I've got an emergency stash in the Aztek. I've got a couple of passes that will get us over the Seattle borders. Money for bribes, food, gas…" he walked away from Max and over to the doorway, looking out into the hall. "It'll be tough, but it's the only way. Max can't be here in this condition. Not if they're looking for her."

Beverly smiled and nodded. "If you need anything, call." Her eyes widened as she remembered his order. "You can have my cell," she offered, turning to go get her purse from her office.

Logan stopped her. "No need." He reached into his pocket and pulled out another. "I've got a friend's. It's untraceable…for the most part. I'll just program your number in, in case of emergency." He turned on the phone, and began to scroll though the speed dial list. He laughed shortly as a familiar number appeared. "What do you know? He did have my number on speed dial."

Beverly gave him the number as she checked the saline drip, and removed the needle. "She's ready," she told him. "Are you?"

He nodded. Almost as an afterthought, he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a gun, passing it to Dr. Shankar. "Hold on to this for me, would you?" 

She held it like she was holding a dead rat. "Sure," she agreed, deciding more details weren't really necessary. She instead decided to ask something else that had been on the tip of her tongue. "Logan, how…?" She indicated his legs.

Logan smiled, and raised one of his pant legs. Beverly could see some metal bars extending down over his boots. "A gift from a friend," he said vaguely. "I got it right before Max…" He paused, laying a hand gently on Max's sleeping form. "I couldn't lift her then. Even with the exoskeleton, my legs weren't strong enough yet that I could pick her up off the ground. Since then, it's helped me develop more muscle mass. Enough that I can now." He smiled at Dr. Shankar. "Thank you for all of your help. We owe you…everything."

He then slid his hands under Max. Gently picking her up, he asked hypothetically, "Any place in particular you're wanting to go?"

He nearly laughed when she sighed and answered, "Seattle."

"I should have guessed. Anywhere else?"

"Anywhere else," Max parroted before settling again.

Beverly watched Logan walk down the hallway, carrying Max carefully in his arms, and hoped she would see them again.

~~~~~~~  


_Part 3 - coming December 16_


	3. Part 3

Logan had only been driving for about an hour, but the long day was beginning to catch up with him. He was exhausted. He looked over at Max, who was looking out the window. As tired as he was, he wouldn't give this day up for anything. Part of him wasn't entirely sure what had happened, and he knew that he had a lot of questions that needed to be answered, but the other half just enjoyed feeling her next to him…even if she wasn't entirely there. He saw an exit for Mount Vernon, and decided that was as good a place as any to stop. "This a good place to stop?" he asked Max. 

"Sure," she said monotonously.

He sighed. "You want to give Normal a call and tell him you'll be back to work soon?" he tested her.

"Sure," she again replied.

_It'll probably be slow_, he thought, repeating Dr. Shankar's words to himself. _I've already waited forever for her, so I guess waiting a little longer isn't that big of a deal._ Except it was. He longed to tell her how he felt, all his fears and dreams and demons that had been with him these few months. But he wanted her to be able to tell him the same.

They slowly pulled into Mount Vernon, and he was pleased to see there wasn't a "citizen's patrol" on guard like there had been at Cape Haven, the last time he and Max went on "vacation." As he drove onto a major thoroughfare, he said, mostly to himself, "One of these days, we have to go somewhere for real." He first made a quick stop at a convenience store for gas and to pick up some food. They then continued down the road until Logan spotted a motel that seemed a little more run down than others, hoping that it would be cheaper as well. He registered under an assumed name with a young, friendly man at the front desk, and paid enough cash for a few weeks' stay.

He went back to the Aztek, where Max was patiently waiting for him. Or at least, he imagined she would be patiently waiting. She was really staring vacantly at the lights of the motel. He opened her door, and carefully unbuckled her seatbelt, trying to be mindful of her injuries. He sighed. "It'd be nice if you could walk," he said. "If anybody sees me carrying you everywhere, they could get suspicious."

He eyed her, and remembered Dr. Shankar's mention of her suggestibility. He leaned close to her face and said loudly, "Get out of the car and walk."

Max didn't say anything, nor was there any trace of anything in her eyes that would suggest she even heard him, yet she turned and slid out of the seat. Her knees buckled as her feet hit the ground, and Logan quickly caught her as she nearly collapsed. He slid an arm around her shoulders and took as much of her slight weight on him as he could and guided her towards their room while she began to take slow, halting steps. Although he answered one question for himself, he felt like another was now burning in its place.

After getting Max settled in the room, and hoping she would stay put, he went back out to the Aztek for his spare wheelchair. As much as he hated admitting it to himself, he was looking forward to getting back in it. His upper back was beginning to knot up with the stresses of the day, and was sure that the exo, moving muscles that weren't used to moving, was all a part of the problem. When he got back to the room, he was relieved that Max had fallen asleep on one of the double beds in the room. That stare was extremely unnerving. He sat on the bed to get out of the exo, and as soon as he had removed it, realized exactly how exhausted he was, and was asleep as soon as his head hit his pillow.

~~~~~~~

A bum wandering down by the old docks couldn't believe his luck when he found a sedan with keys and without any apparent owner. Well, without any living owner at least. He looked at the mangled mess of the trunk lock, and shook his head. "I wonder what was in there that made someone forget about the trunk release? Well, whatever…" He decided that the least he could do in appreciation for his new fortune was to take the body to the morgue. At about midnight, he drove around the morgue, but didn't see a door for drop-offs. So he just pulled up to what looked like the main door, opened the passenger side, and pulled his "passenger" onto the pavement, cheerfully waving to the man and calling, "Thanks again, buddy!" as he left to find a chop shop.

~~~~~~~

"Who am I?"

The words shot through the darkness of sleep and Logan pulled himself awake sharply. Even in the shadows of the room, he could see Max standing over him. He pulled himself up to his elbows. "Max?"

"Who am I?" she asked again, a little more urgently. "Tell me! Tell me who I am!" she demanded.

He sat up all the way, pulling his legs over the side of the bed. He took her by the shoulders and said, "Sit next to me."

As she slowly sat next to him, her chin began to tremble. "Tell me," she whispered.

Logan took her hand, and looked into her eyes, searching for some spark to speak to. "Max. Your name is Max."

She asked him again. "Who am I?"

Logan thought a moment, and then the words from his dream came to him. He squeezed her hand. "You're mine."

Max smiled, and the relieved look on her face was apparent. She squeezed his hand. "You're mine."

They stayed like that until dawn.

~~~~~~~

_The place was strange – not her barracks. It was full of strange sounds and lights. It frightened her to not know where she was or why she was there…or even who she was. But whenever she was scared, a voice came to her and reassured her. Even when she wasn't sure who she was, he always knew._

_Soon, the fog began to lift…_

~~~~~~~

Logan resisted the urge to rub his tired eyes as he waited for the salesperson to hand over his change. He wasn't able to get much sleep at night because Max kept waking him up, begging him to tell her who she was. Her name never seemed to be the right answer. But as long as he repeated the words from his…their…dream, she settled down, although, she usually wouldn't go back to sleep until sometime during the day. Only then could he catch a nap, and wait for the next time.

"$5.42 is your change," the clerk said as she handed over his change and pushed his bags closer to him. "I hope your fiancée likes her new clothes. Wish my husband would go shopping for me."

Logan forced a smile on his face and nodded, quickly scooping up his bags and walking out of the little clothing shop. He wasn't too happy to be away from Max for so long, but they had both been in their same clothes for three days now, and he, at least, was happy for a change.

Three days. So much had changed in three days. Logan considered that change as he drove back to the motel. Max had gone from nearly catatonic to partially responsive. She was even responding intelligently to some of his words, even if some of her responses were still somewhat…juvenile. And at least she had stopped…staring. Logan shuddered as he got out of the Aztek and walked inside the motel. That look had really begun to make him nervous. Her strength was returning, too, and although her steps were now sturdy, she was still very thin and frail. Not what he was used to seeing for Max.

Inside the motel, he nearly walked past his room because the numbers had been removed from the door. He frowned, slowly slid the key in the slot, and walked inside.

Max was standing by the window, peering out from a small gap in the curtains. She slowly turned as Logan came in, and took a slow deep breath. _Sigh of relief_, Logan interpreted, having gotten used to some of her new "expressions" over the past few days. "Hey, Max," he greeted cheerfully, even if he really felt too tired to actually be cheerful. "It's good to see you up." As he stepped further into the room, the phone caught his attention. All of the numbers had been pulled off the buttons. He sighed, now knowing who had removed the numbers from the door. "Max, why did you take the numbers off the door and the phone?"

She blinked a few times, a shrug for her, and turned back to the window. "I don't need numbers anymore."

Logan found it hard to argue with that logic. He set the bags on the bed. "I brought you some clothes," he told her. "Figured you might want to change out of those fatigues."

She slowly looked down at her clothes, and then back at him. "I can have civilian clothes now?"

He nodded. "Would you like that?"

She considered that for a long time. "Yes," she finally stated. When he picked up one of the bags and brought it over to her, she frowned. "You're out of uniform," she accused him.

Logan blinked, surprised at the charge. He looked down at his clothes and then back at her. "Max, I never was in uniform. I'm a civilian, so I wear civilian clothes," he carefully said, not quite sure what prompted this. "Like you."

She huffed a breath, slowly walked to him, and pointed to his legs. "You're out of uniform," she repeated.

It finally dawned on him. The exoskeleton. She probably didn't quite have the words yet to say what it was. Logan's heart lifted a bit at the fact that she was recognizing that something was there that, for most of their time together before she was in Manticore, hadn't been there. "Well, I'll bargain with you. You go into the bathroom and change, and I'll get back into my civvies. What do ya say?"

"I say yes." Max scooped up her clothes and made her way to the bathroom.

While she was in there, Logan sat on his bed to strip his pants off and remove the exoskeleton. He changed his own clothes, and then transferred to the wheelchair. Max came out within a few minutes, dressed in the sweats that he had picked up. He smiled. "I'm glad they fit, although, they are a little loose. You could stand to gain a little weight."

Max looked down at herself and frowned, not quite understanding what he was talking about.

Logan sighed. "Never mind. I'll order us some pizza, and we'll play some chess or watch a movie or something." He wheeled over to the small desk in the room and looked for the phone book. Not finding it, he turned to look at Max. "Max, why did you hide the phone book?"

She sat on her bed and glared at him. Really. "I don't need numbers anymore," she gruffly reminded him.

Logan didn't even comment as he moved over to the telephone. "Right. Well, I guess I'll just call information." He stared at the numberless pad for just a moment before dialing information.

~~~~~~~

Original Cindy slowly peddled her bicycle towards Fogle Towers for the first time since Bling had called to tell her that Logan was missing. Although she was concerned he had just up and left without telling anybody, it wasn't all too surprising. She'd just figured he'd either gotten some word on Manticore or Max and went to chase after it.

She finally arrived at the apartment building and rolled her bicycle inside, waving at the cute young woman who manned the reception desk in the main hall as she headed to the elevators. She swiped her pass and pressed the button for the penthouse. As she unlocked Logan's door, she called, "Yo, Bling! What's the good word?"

Bling called back, "In the computer room, Cin."

Original Cindy leaned her bicycle against the wall, and made her way through the apartment. She found Bling sitting at Logan's desk, staring at the computer screen. "S'up?"

Bling turned to look at her, and then turned back to the computer. "I haven't been in here for a week. Figured if the man saw me messing with his toys, he'd get all Jackie Chan on my hide."

She smiled. "Chair or no chair, right?"

"Yup."

She walked closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "So whad'ya call me here for?" Bling held up a piece of paper. She slowly took it and looked at it. "Hour SW of Se." Her eyes widened as comprehension hit. "Manticore? This is Manticore?"

Bling shrugged. "That's what I'm thinking. I'm also thinking…"

"He went chasin' after Max," she finished for him. "I'd been thinkin' that's the only thing that would make him get ghost like he did. Now we've got us some proof."

He paused for a moment. "Do you think she's alive?"

Original Cindy nodded. "He seemed to think so. That's good enough for me."

Bling grinned. "Me, too, really."

She waited, and then frowned. "So you just call Original Cindy to get her opinion on all this, or you got somethin' more important to make Original Cindy miss the start of Xena?"

"You wanna finish this?"

She blinked. "Take Manticore down, you mean?"

Bling nodded.

Original Cindy grinned. "Sounds good and fun to me. Think Logan will be mad we threw the party without him?"

"No, I don't." Bling didn't tell her that either Logan had found Max and they were hiding out from her captors, or he was…well…

Original Cindy nodded. "So, what do we need to make one of these hacks of his without him?"

Bling's head whipped around to look at her in shock. "How…?"

"Come on. You know the man. You don't hafta hang around him very long to know that he's got mad computer skills. And all of those hacks about Manticore suddenly appearing as of late and then stopping a week ago? I'm sorry, but nobody don't take on those guys as a favor."

He nodded. "Well, then, what do you know about computers?"

"Not much," she admitted. "You?"

"Only a little bit."

Original Cindy leaned over and peered at the computer screen. "Should be enough between us to get this thing up and groovin'. Where do we start?"

~~~~~~~

_He was back in that place. It hadn't really changed – still grey, dingy, and hopeless like the first time he had been there. He moved another piece on his chessboard and looked at his opponent. "Knight to g5. Why am I here?"_

_The creature danced around on the head of the pin it was standing on and replied, "Bishop to c8. How should I know? You're the one who came here."_

_Logan regarded the grinning man's face and the happily wagging spiked tail before looking back at the board and moving the chess piece to the coordinates the creature had called out. "Rook a to f1. I think I should be somewhere else right now."_

_"Pawn to h6. Where?"_

_Logan frowned, considering his next move. "I'm not sure. Bishop to g6. At least I know who I am."_

_"Well, you've got that going for you at least. King to g6."_

_"But if I don't know where I am, how will I be able to get where I'm going?" He moved a piece. "Queen to d3. Check."_

_The creature settled down on its haunches and looked at Logan, exasperated. "Maybe you should figure out where you're going first. Could help. King to g7."_

_Logan shrugged, not really faulting the logic of the other. "Knight to e5. Maybe I should find Max first."_

_"Leave her alone. Pawn to e5. She's busy." It raised a paw and scratched its nose._

_"Queen to h7. Check. Doing what?"_

_"Besides finding herself? She's got a big project. King to f8."_

_There was something that bothered him about that statement, but Logan decided to leave it alone and get back to the game. "So what do I do now? Rook to f6. Check."_

_"You could stop playing games. Knight to f6." It grinned. "Especially with mythological creatures."_

_Logan moved one last piece. "Queen to h8. Checkmate. I'm done." He stood and walked away from the table._

_The creature watched the man go. "No, you're not. But you'll figure that out. Return to your mate."_

~~~~~~~

A clink dragged Logan out of the dream, but it wasn't quite enough to totally wake him up. As he lay there, he began pondering the meaning of the dream. Playing chess with a manticore. Well, he'd played enough chess with Max over the past few days. She could still kick his ass at it, even in her present state of mind. Another clink broke him out of his thoughts, and he opened his eyes, automatically fumbling for his glasses and then sliding them on. After he adjusted to the darkness, he noticed that Max wasn't in her bed. She hadn't woken him up yet that night, either. He quickly leaned over to the nightstand to turn the light on. He covered his eyes briefly as the brightness seared his vision. When he had uncovered them, he wished he had never woken up.

Max was sitting in the middle of the floor, with of all things, a fork in her hand, tinkering with the waist unit of the exoskeleton. The remaining pieces of the exo lay scattered around the room. Bits of wires, tiny pieces of circuitry, slim support rods…everywhere.

Logan blinked a few times, hoping that he was still dreaming. But as the scene remained the same, and Max popped another chip out of the waist unit, he threw the blankets off and wrestled his wheelchair closer to the bed. "Max!" he snapped.

Max continued on with her work, either ignoring or not recognizing the furious tone of voice. "What?" she calmly replied.

He struggled into the wheelchair as he stammered, "You…you…"

She put down the fork and started pulling out a wire.

"Max! Stop! What the _hell_ are you doing?!" he finally managed to get out.

She picked up the fork again as she said, "I'm doing inventory, and trying to extract the usable equipment."

A red haze burned through Logan as Max calmly went back to disassembling. He was absolutely enraged at her lack of emotion and understanding of the situation that he really didn't trust anything he would say…or could say. He snapped up the brakes, and gritted his teeth as he began to push by her, cringing as he heard something crunch beneath his wheels. When he realized she was neatly positioned so that he couldn't get around her, he barked, "Move!"

She look up at him, surprised, and scrambled to her feet, quickly coming to attention and backing out of the way. 

He angrily wheeled to the door, yanking it open, and slamming it shut behind him. He ignored the young man sleeping at the front desk as he went outside, taking a deep breath of the warm night air. He desperately tried to calm down and stop the blood from boiling in his veins.

It wasn't her fault. Not really. But _damn_ if he didn't want to kill her right about now. And it wasn't all about the exoskeleton, either.

He had tried to be supportive, understanding, caring, gentle. He had been thrilled when Max's initial condition seemed to improve, but now it seemed that her improvement was stalled. It was frustrating. She was stuck somewhere between life and limbo, and he didn't know that she was ever going to get out of that place. All the time that he had been praying, _dreaming_, that he would get his Max back, he never imagined that he would get a shell of the woman he loved, someone he didn't even know.

He put his head in his hands as he took a few more deep breaths. That was the kicker, wasn't it? His legs, his ability to walk, had been some symbol of manhood to him this past year. When he had gotten the exoskeleton, he had become a man again…in his own eyes. With the exoskeleton now in pieces, he had lost that once more. During this whole mess, he had been questioning himself and his feelings. Before, he hadn't been entirely sure he was man enough to love the stranger in the hotel room like he had loved Max. And now, he wasn't sure he could be anything for her.

Logan ran his fingers through his hair, the thought flitting through his brain that he should get a haircut soon. _A haircut_, he snorted. _At least I have hair to cut._ He could feel the emotions building and churning again, and pushed them down, focusing on the sunrise, trying to calm himself down enough to go back inside. It probably would have been easier with a few drinks. Logan sat and watched the sky until well after the sun had broken the horizon when he finally felt in control enough to return to the room.

Inside, the first thing that he noticed was that all of the parts of the exoskeleton which were originally scattered haphazardly across the floor were now neatly paired and piled according to size and color. The second thing that he noticed was that Max had apparently finished her work, and was now back to looking out of the window. She must have heard him coming into the door, because, without turning, she softly said, "You left me."

Logan sighed, thinking calming thoughts. "I'm so—" he began, cutting himself off. The words from his recent dream came to him. _You could stop playing games._ He eyed her and told her truthfully. "I was upset. I needed to leave for a while, clear my head."

She cocked her head and now looked at him. "Is it clear now?"

He was surprised by her question, but answered her. "It's a little better. I'm still mad that you took apart the exoskeleton."

Max frowned. "I was—"

He held up a hand to stop her. "I know what you thought you were doing. I guess you couldn't help it. But I can still be mad about it."

Some small part of her must have comprehended something in what he had said, because she nodded. "Okay."

He smiled. "Tell you what. I'll warn you before I leave again, even if I'm upset, okay?"

Max took a slow, deep breath, and smiled a little. "Okay," she said again, sounding more certain about it this time.

"Why don't you sit down on the bed and watch a little television?" He pointed to the bed, and then looked forlornly at the TV, wondering why she couldn't have disassembled that instead of the exoskeleton. He grabbed the remote off of the nightstand, barely acknowledging that it didn't have any numbers left on the keypad, and flicked it on. A morning news program was showing. "I'm going to use the bathroom for a minute, and when I get back, we'll see if there are any good movies on this early."

He was only in the bathroom for a few seconds when he heard a noise from the other room. He paused, wondering if it was the television, when he heard it again, softly at first.

"Logan."

He blinked, realizing it was Max. But Max had never used his name in the entire time since he had found her. Before he could think about that any further, she called again, louder. "Logan!" As he reached over to turn off the water, the call became a scream.

"Logan! Logan! Logan!"

He quickly went back into the main room, and saw Max sitting on his bed, clutching the remote control to herself. Her face was extraordinarily pale as her wide eyes were riveted to the television. He looked at the screen, and he too paled as he saw the image of flames shooting from a massive complex.

Max was still screaming his name as he moved to her side. "Max, what's wrong?" he asked her.

She turned to look at him, and he finally saw the recognition that he had been longing for, mixed with a deep pain. "Logan! Oh, God, Logan!"

He quickly transferred from the chair to the bed and took her face in his hands. "Max. Tell me what's wrong!"

She pointed a trembling hand to the television screen. "Logan, it's…it's…Manticore. It's Manticore, Logan. It's…oh, God, it is, isn't it?"

He looked again at the screen and listened as the reporter stated that authorities were saying that a gas main explosion had killed all of the occupants of this VA hospital late the previous night. She also stated that this rather suspicious explosion occurred only hours after a cable hack by the infamous crusader Eyes Only, saying that this place was the location of a complex called Manticore, which was supposedly involved in genetic manipulation of humans.

"You were here."

Max's voice broke through to him, and he turned to look at her. Her breathing was shallow as she told him, "You…Eyes Only…you were here last night. And I was never there. They were taking me there, but I never made it. You were here with me and…oh, God. Logan!"

As her voice rose to a fever pitch, he grasped her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, holding her tightly to him like the lifeline she was. "Max…Max…" he couldn't say anything else. Not yet. He gently rocked her as her breathing kept catching in her chest – sobs that couldn't break free.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the piles of parts from the exoskeleton. She tried to push away from Logan. "Oh, God, what have I done? Oh, God…"

He grabbed her shoulders, preventing her escape. Either she still wasn't strong enough to break away, or she simply wouldn't, but she was letting him hold her still. "Max. Look at me." He waited until she looked at him, the panic in her eyes searing his heart. "Max, you weren't well. Don't you remember?"

A shudder ran through her slim frame as she shook her head. "No…" she admitted. She turned to look at the television, and the flames leapt into her eyes. "No."

Logan sighed. "Max, what's the last thing you remember?"

She seemed to settle as she tried to focus her thoughts. "Manticore…I remember…a box."

"A box?"

"They put me in a box…and then…I was in a truck. There was red and…" Her brow furrowed and she looked at Logan, confused, the panic beginning to rise again. "Logan? Logan, what…?"

He shook his head, bringing her close to him again. "It doesn't matter. Not anymore. Max, look. Manticore has fallen. It's nothing but scrap and ash now. Nobody can hurt you. You're safe now."

"But, Logan…what have I done?"

He gently rocked her and kissed the top of her head, the soft bristles of her hair tickling his lips. "It's okay. Manticore is gone, and they can't hurt you anymore. You're here now, and you're safe. Don't look back on what you might or might not have done. There's time to remember later. Right now…you're here. And you're safe."

She held on to him desperately, listening to the beat of his heart, and trying to believe his words.

~~~~~~~

Dr. Shankar had a body that she wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to do with. She had recognized Donald Lydecker immediately when she discovered him on the "front porch" of the morgue, and had quickly run back into the morgue to wake Gib so he could help her drag the body inside. Now, a week and a half later, she still wasn't entirely sure what to do. Procedure said that she should have informed the police and perhaps the federal government immediately after making the identification, but she also remembered that Logan had said that the man Max had been with was dead. She had a sneaking suspicion that this was the man.

A knock on her office door startled her out of her thoughts. Gib peered in the room and held out a folder. "Shanks, I've got some results for you."

She waved him over to the desk and indicated that he shut the door. He passed over the folder, and Dr. Shankar took a quick peek at the contents. "The bullets in the body matched the ones in the gun," she murmured.

Gib nodded. "Yup. That they did. Beautifully. I usually don't get specimens that good. Usually half of the impressions have been tampered with to prevent a solid ID. Prints on the gun matched, too."

Beverly looked up at him over the folder. "Prints?"

"I say again, prints. One set to our Johnnie Doe, who's now been in storage so long he's getting freezer burn, one set to your friend, who popped for a minor 'rousing the rabble' charge from way, way back, and one to our pretty little patient from a week and a half ago. There was also an unknown. Didn't hit anything."

"Four sets." Beverly leaned back in her chair and tapped the folder on her knee. "I wouldn't call it suicide, but it really could have been any of the other three."

"She had gunpowder on her hands," Gib reminded her softly.

"Yes, she did, but it was in small amounts." She looked at his face. "I know. Still enough. But other prints are other leads." She sighed. "This doesn't help much, Gib."

"Yeah, figured that. What do you want to do now?"

Dr. Shankar thought a moment, and remembered the man and woman who had been in the morgue, and had left alive, together. "Sign him out as a suicide, no ID. Cremate the body. I'll handle the remains…and the records." _Logan can decide what to do when he gets back to Seattle._

~~~~~~~

"Do we have to go back?" she asked him.

Logan turned from where he was trying to gather some of their belongings and looked at Max. Her eyes were haunted, had a new depth of darkness and age that hadn't been there months ago. "What do you mean?"

She sighed. "We're already on the lam. Can't we just keep running? Find some corner of the country to hide in?"

He smiled at her, and wheeled over to where she was sitting on the bed, clutching her knees. He put a hand to her face. "We've been hiding. Now it's time to rejoin the world."

She pulled her head away from his hand, not looking him directly in the eyes. "I guess."

Logan studied her. The last few days had been incredibly hard. All of the living nightmares that Max had held locked away in her mind for the past couple of weeks now boiled and bubbled close to the surface. She would tell Logan what she went through, what she could remember, and Logan in turn would tell her of his experiences while she was presumed dead. They found a lot in common. All of the pain and loneliness they felt, they found reflected in each other. It was the same with their hopes and dreams, which came up in their conversations with much less frequency. They both spoke of wanting to survive, hoping that someone would remember them, and be waiting when they returned. 

There were also demons that they didn't share.

He had found her in the bathroom, staring at the mirror, running her hands over and around her head. "My hair…" she whispered in a shaky voice. "They took my hair…"

He took one of her hands and kissed it softly. "That's all they took, Max. Nothing more. It will grow back, and then they won't even have that." He still wasn't sure if she believed him.

She had found him in the main room, slowly picking up the piles of chips and cables and other bits, looking at them longingly before gently setting them in a large box. "This mess…" he muttered under his breath, not realizing that she had heard him.

She tentatively put a hand on his shoulder, not yet certain enough of him, or herself, to know that he wouldn't reject her. "I'm sorry, Logan. There's gotta be plans somewhere. I can put it back together. Or maybe there are more out there somewhere." She still wasn't sure if he believed her.

She picked up the large box of exoskeleton pieces, and Logan set their bags of clothes in his lap before they left the motel room. They briefly stopped at the main desk to drop off the room key. When they walked out to the parking lot, Logan was cheered to see Max's face break out in a grin. Her smiles were few and far between. "I've missed this ugly car," she joked.

Logan thought he would float out of the wheelchair, he was so happy. "Hey, be nice to Bessie. She's had it rough," he ribbed in return.

The trip back to Seattle was oddly light, especially considering the heavy mood of the morning. As they reached the sector checkpoints, Max turned to look at Logan. "Logan, we're going to be okay, aren't we?"

He smiled and took her hand. "We're going to be just fine."

They pulled up to the gate, and Logan handed their sector passes over to the soldier at the gate. He took a perfunctory glance in the Aztek before handing the passes back to Logan. The soldier nodded to them as the gate was raised. "Welcome back to Seattle."

~~~~~~~

_Once upon a time there was a man and a woman. And they lived happily ever after._

_Does there even need to be more to the story?_

_The man and woman did their best to resume their lives, in spite of all that had happened. They didn't really pick up from where they had left off, before their lives had changed, but instead chose a new direction to go._

_Max never did quite totally recover her memory, and Logan never pushed, deciding that the demons she lived with every day were enough. He still had suspicions that she had killed Lydecker that day. She was mobile, had the gun with her, had traces of gunpowder on her hands. But there was also other evidence that made him doubt his own theories. She was so weak, Lydecker would have easily been able to overpower her. There was an unknown set of fingerprints on the gun. And there was Max's own deep resistance against guns. Logan had to believe that was one thing that stayed with her, even when she couldn't remember her own name. She was alive, and that was enough for him._

_They never married, which never ceased to surprise all of their friends. Max wasn't really one for the "institution" of marriage, and Logan had been through it once already. Some days they were merely friends, others they were also lovers. But they always knew they belonged to each other. They had declared that oath in a place of hopes and wishes._

_There were days that either the man or the woman would sink towards the darkness, the nightmares living brightly in their minds. It was on those days that they would reach for each other, and decide to run away. Where it was just the two of them and the rest of the world could be forgotten. Somewhere. _

_Anywhere. _

~~~~~~~

_The End_  



End file.
